


Day 25 - Gazing into each other's eyes

by elessar_undomiel



Series: 30 Day OTP Challenge - Johnlock [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, POV John Watson, POV Sherlock Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elessar_undomiel/pseuds/elessar_undomiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nothing ever happened to him"</p><p>In which John's life is turned upside down by a new customer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided that I'll write this one as a series of short chapters, so that I can write them when I have time and post them on mobile :) hope you like the idea! :))
> 
> PS: "Mature" is probably a bit too much, I mean if you're looking for smut this is not the right work, there is only one chapter with non-graphic sex, but better safe than sorry ;)

The first time the man walked into the coffee shop John didn't look at him: he just took the order - Earl Grey, one sugar - asked his name and wrote "Holmes" on a plastic cup. Nothing new, nothing interesting. Nothing ever happened to him.

The first time he walked into the coffee shop, Sherlock barely noticed the man at the counter. Ex army doctor, psychosomatic limp, shot at his left shoulder. Dull. Everything was incredibly dull. He took his tea and left.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time the man walked into the coffee shop John looked at him. He was tall and slender, his features strange yet quite appealing: high cheekbones, plump lips and a very defined cupid's bow. His eyes were even more incredible: ice blue, almost transparent. He was glancing back though, so John looked away. He took his order, not recognising his name when he wrote it on the plastic cup. He didn't think about that man that day. Nothing special. Nothing ever happened to him. 

The second time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop, the man at the counter was looking at him at him. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment before he looked away again: barely enough for Sherlock to catch a glimpse of his tired dark eyes. Nothing special. Dull. He took his tea and left. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a little bit of free time after lunch so here it is, another meeting! And maybe (maybe, I hope so!) I'll manage to write another one tonight too ;)

The third time the man walked into the coffee shop it was quite a good day for John. Nothing great, but good enough to force a smile every now and then. He recognised the man and managed to offer him one of those fake smiles. He dared to look at him for a bit more this time, enough to notice a hint of brown right around the corner of his pupils, surrounded by the expanse of cold ice. The man didn't smile back, and John looked away. He asked his name and order, and wrote "Holmes" on a plastic cup destined for an Earl Grey, one sugar. He didn't think about that man again that day. Nothing interesting. Nothing ever happened to him.

The third time he walked into the coffee shop the man at the counter smiled at him. Not a real smile, it didn't even reach his eyes. Why did people even do that? Did they feel better when they forced a smile, as if they had a real reason to do it? Or did they think that the others wouldn't notice their insincerity? Well, Sherlock _did_ notice and he found it so stupid. Dull. People were so dull. He took his tea and left.


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth time the man walked into the coffee shop John remembered his name and was quite sure about his order. "Earl Grey, two sugars, Mr Holmes?"  
The man frowned. "One sugar. I'd have expected a better memory from a man who managed to graduate in medicine ahead of time."  
He had a baritone voice, pleasant and warm. John thought that it was probably warm enough to melt the ice in his eyes. Than he realised what that voice had said. "Wait... How did you know?"  
The man rolled his eyes. "I didn't know, I saw. Your tan and posture show that you're a soldier, discharged because of an injury in you left shoulder and with a psychosomatic limp. But you're obviously a doctor, you were talking about a very specific drug the first day I came here. So army doctor. And you're very young but you've been in the army for at least five years, so you must have graduated ahead of time."  
John was speechless. It took him more than a few seconds to stutter "That... Was... Amazing!"  
The man looked positively shocked. "You think so?"  
John smiled. A real smile. It was the first time in months. "Of course it was. It was extraordinary... Quite extraordinary."  
The man smiled too. His eyes were sparkling, as if the sun was reflecting in those frozen pools. They were so much better this way, surrounded by deep wrinkles. "That's not what people normally say."  
"What do people normally say?"  
"Piss off!"  
John laughed. A real laugh. It was the first time in years. And the man laughed too, and John thought that it was even better than when he had smiled. He wrote his name on the plastic cup, more carefully than the other times. That day, every time he thought about the man a tiny smile bent his thin lips. Something had happened that day. For the first time, something had happened to him. 

The fourth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop, the man at the counter proved to be an idiot. But when Sherlock told him his deductions he didn't call him a freak, he didn't go mad, he didn't insult him. He said it was amazing. He said it was extraordinary. And he smiled. A real smile, that made little wrinkles appear at the side of his eyes.  
Blue. His eyes were blue, like the night sky. Sherlock hadn't noticed how beautiful they were before, and now he couldn't stop staring. And then he laughed and Sherlock found himself laughing too. He couldn't even remember the last time he had laughed: probably when he was a child, surely before he had surrendered himself to the drugs. There was something different about this man, something interesting, something definitely not dull. He smiled and caressed his own surname well written on the plastic cup when he left. The tea tasted particularly good that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a little longer but well... It had to :P  
> Hope you liked it! xx


	5. Chapter 5

The fifth time the man walked into the coffee shop John smiled at him. "Mr Holmes!"  
The man smiled back. "Sherlock, please."  
Obvious: such a special man couldn't have a common name. "I'm John. In case you hadn't deduced my name from the way I iron my shirt"  
Sherlock giggled. "I hadn't. It's a nice name. I like it." John felt his cheeks burn, but he didn't look away his time. Sherlock's eyes were green that day, and he noticed a little dark spot in his right eye, above the pupil. Leaving the coffee shop, Sherlock waved at him and smiled, and John's heart skipped a beat. What the hell was happening to him?

The fifth time he walked into the coffee shop the man at the counter was smiling. Again. And, again, Sherlock realised he was smiling too. John. His name was John. And it would have been a boring name, but it belonged to that kind man, with eyes as blue as sapphires and a contagious laughter, and this was enough to make it extraordinary. And when he told John that he liked it, he blushed and it was the most endearing sight he had ever seen. He had never considered anything endearing actually, but this definitely was. When he took his tea and left he waved at John, and the stars shone in the velvety sky of his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so sure about this one, I hope it's good enough :) have a wonderful day/evening :) xxx


	6. Chapter 6

The sixth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John wasn't there. It was his day off, and though he seriously considered popping in just to see him, he didn't want to look like the desperate idiot he was, craving an opportunity to meet a handsome brillant almost-stranger. That man was out of reach, why would he even notice John's absence? So he stayed at home, and nothing happened to him that day. 

The sixth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John wasn't there. And he was baffled by the realisation that he had been waiting for another opportunity to meet him since the moment he had exited the cafe the day before. But what did he expect? He obviously had days off, and most of all his life didn't revolve around a creepy rude almost-stranger. He had been kind to him, sure, but it was his job after all... Sherlock should stop daydreaming about someone so out-of-reach. Caring isn't an advantage. He took his tea and left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah sorry, I had said all fluff... But they're two idiots, it's not my fault!! But I won't make them pine anymore, promise!! ;)


	7. Chapter 7

The seventh time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop it was almost empty. Only two day had passed, but it was like a breath of fresh air, like an oasis in the desert. John allowed himself to drawn into the deep blue ocean of his eyes. And then they were talking about everything and nothing, about their lives, their past, their ideas, their tastes about food and music and tea. Sherlock didn't leave when he got his tea, and every time that he had to turn his attention to a customer, John couldn't keep himself from glancing at Sherlock every few seconds. They only stopped talking when Sherlock's phone rang: they needed him for a case, so he left promising to come back the day after. "Can't wait" John answered, and he winked. God, what was he thinking of? Making a utter fool of himself like this... But Sherlock had blushed, smiled and murmured "me too". Nothing as wonderful as this had ever happened to him.

The seventh time Sherlock had walked into the coffee shop it was almost empty. The sight of John behind the counter made his heart skip a beat. He didn't remember how beautiful his eyes were: he had pictured them in his head all the time in the last two days, but they were even better in person. If asked, Sherlock wouldn't know how it had happened, but soon they were chatting. Chatting. Sherlock had never done it, it was stupid and dull, but with John it was different, he found himself craving more information about him, every single little thing, and he wanted to tell him about himself. He couldn't stop looking at him, even when he had to serve the other customers, and when Lestrade called him he was tempted not to go. He, Sherlock Holmes, didn't want to investigate on a murder to keep chatting. He was in trouble. But when he left he couldn't keep from promising he would come back the day after. And John said he couldn't wait and Sherlock felt his blood rushing to his cheeks. He whispered "me too" and left.


	8. Chapter 8

The eighth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John couldn't stop thinking about how beautiful he was and how much he wanted to run his fingers into that mop of dark curls and kiss those plump lips. And it had to be be quite clear on his face, because Sherlock had blushed and looked away. He didn't seem angry, though.  
When John gave him the change, their fingers brushed lightly and their gazes locked. It was just a moment, but definitely enough to make a shiver run down his spine. Sherlock's voice was soft when he said goodbye and left, or was it just an illusion? Either way, something bigger than John was happening to him.

The eighth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John was more beautiful than he could remember. He was probably too perfect to be contained in Sherlock's mind palace. It would have taken him ages to explore and memorise every inch of him, every shade of blue that his eyes could take on, the texture of his short hair, the taste of his thin lips, the feeling of his tongue against Sherlock's... God, what the hell was happening to him? Sherlock blushed and looked away, hoping his thoughts hadn't been displayed too clearly on his face.  
When John gave him the change, their fingers brushed lightly and their gazes locked. It was like an electric shock, like fire burning him deep inside, up to his bones, up to his soul. John's smile was so sweet when he said goodbye, or was it just an illusion? Either way, that man was definitely the best and greatest challenge Sherlock had ever faced. He took his tea and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there, promise ;) hope you liked it!! :)


	9. Chapter 9

The ninth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John was more nervous than ever. His hands were shaking when he wrote on the plastic cup, but he couldn't find a good excuse to postpone. Now or never. He tried to keep calm: he was used to the bloody war, he could face this, couldn't he? He smiled at Sherlock when he left, probably looking away faster than usually, and then waited. Nothing happened for hours.

The ninth time Sherlock walked into the coffee shop John was strange. He didn't look at him, he was nervous, his smile was a bit forced. It had to happen sooner or later: Sherlock had done something wrong and spoiled everything. Damn it. He tried to keep calm and act as if nothing had happened. He took his tea and left, a strained smile on his lips when he said goodbye. He walked fast, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. What had he done wrong this time?  
And then he saw them. Ten digits, written in a shaky yet readable handwriting, right under his name.

Later that day, when John closed the door of his apartment, he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket.  
_Dinner? SH_  
John grinned, threw himself onto the bed and typed quickly  
_Starving._  
The answer was as rapid as his own  
_8 pm, Angelo's? SH_  
_Oh God yes._  
John closed his eyes, his smile ear-to-ear. He had never been happier in his life.  
Not so far away, a matchig smile arched the lips of a tall, slender man with a mop of dark curls and ice blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost over, but I have a couple of extras in my mind ;) meanwhile, thank you for your support, you're all lovely lovely people <3


	10. Epilogue, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit different, it's not exactly the same style as the previous chapters, but I wanted to describe a couple more moments with this particular emphasis on the eyes so here it is, hope you like it :) xx

John couldn't look away if he wanted to, as if his own life was held in those expanses of pure ice. But how could he ever want to? Sherlock's eyes were so close now, he could see every golden speckle, every emerald shadow, every sparkle of light reflected in those iridescent eyes. And he could see his own feelings mirrored in them, the same desire, the same fondness, the same hint of something that could become, one day, love. But now... Now they were so close... John could feel Sherlock's long fingers lying against his own sides; his curls were so soft under John's hand. And then John's eyes fluttered closed, and Sherlock's lips brushed against his own and God yes, this was life.


	11. Epilogue, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I raised the rating for this chapter, though it's not that explicit at all, but better safe than sorry ;)

The dark blue of John's irises was almost completely devoured by his pupils. Sherlock felt more stretched than humanly possible, yet so perfectly full, complete. He was more than naked, he had bared his body and his soul and given both of them to John, unconditionally, and John had accepted them and given him unquestioning love in return. And now they were one in any possible way, and John was whispering soothing words, softly caressing his face, never looking away, waiting patiently for Sherlock's pain to pass. And in that moment Sherlock said it. John already had, many times, but Sherlock had never said it back, because caring is not an advantage. But this time it was. John was the best thing that could ever happen to him, and Sherlock loved him, and John loved him back, and they had saved each other so many times and in so many ways. How could this not be an advantage? He looked into John's eyes and whispered "I love you". And once more, he saw a starry sky in his irises as a smile spread on John's face. And God, Sherlock thought, this was life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you liked it!! :)  
> And now there's only one chapter missing... Guess what? ;)


	12. Epilogue, part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for Mycroft, this is a little present for him ;)

He had always taken care of his little brother, always tried to protect him: he was still a child in so many ways and Mycroft didn't want him to be hurt. So he had taught him that _caring is not an advantage_ , because if you don't care you won't be hurt, right?  
But this time Sherlock had been the clever one, Sherlock had taught him something. Sure, caring was a huge risk, but sometimes it was worthwhile. As John slid a ring on his little brother's finger, he saw their gazes, full of everything they had said to each other and everything that didn't even need to be said, and he knew that Sherlock had the greatest advantage in the world: he wasn't alone anymore, he would never be alone anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, hope you've enjoyed this little experiment. I definitely have, and I've really apreciated your support and your feedback, so thank you very very much for each and every comment and kudos <3  
> See you tomorrow with the next challenge ;) xx


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